


Denying fate

by Swagclops



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Future adult content, Interspecies Relationship(s), Light Acrotomophilia, M/M, Not Beta Read, Slight canon from the comics, Slow Build, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:52:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4399769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swagclops/pseuds/Swagclops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darth Maul struggles to keep in control of himself after meeting Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Jedi who simultaneously defeats and rescues him after the Battle of Naboo. Together they struggle between betraying their loyalties to follow their hearts and battling each other to deny what fate has in store for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finding Fate

**Author's Note:**

> My knowledge of Star Wars comes from the movies and a few comics, if there is anything wrong about my canon (aside from the obvious change in plot) constructive criticism is welcome. This also is not tied to the Cartoon Network show at all. I have been Role-Playing all my life, but fanfictions are new to me so please correct or disregard any sloppy changes between POV's.

Power thrummed through his veins, heat flowing from his crimson fingers to his toes. This battle been anticipated since their meeting on Tatooine. The Jedi master and his little apprentice had evaded his attacks, dodging and countering with a challenge the Sith seethed at. He had felt anger boiling inside him and he acted rashly, betraying his master and outing the Sith. All his life, the Dathomirian had wished to slay the Jedi, gaining his hatred for them from his master. He hated them, but that wasn’t saying much. Maul hated everyone, everything, even his own master.

Sidious was who he hated the most.

The copper tang of his blood still tasted fresh against Mauls’ tongue. The taste lingered ever since he had bitten his master for his deceiving ways. Since that day he has been a Sith Lord, and never once has the taste of blood completely vanished.

He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, lips pulled back into a permanent scowl as the door swooshed open to reveal a gaggle of rebellion members. They’re fighting a losing war, he thought. A minority trying to overthrow the majority. Still, he almost admired their will to fight. If he didn’t think them stupid, he would call them brave. The group froze at the very sight of him. His blood colored flesh, the black markings creating a feral expression. He was a thing of nightmares, molded to terrify any and all who laid their eyes on him. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon stood still, prepared to take down this threat that had only met once before.

Yellow eyes stared unblinkingly through the crowed, as if they were not there and it was only him and the two Jedi standing behind the group. The older one, who Maul assumes is the master and the younger one his apprentice, orders the rebellion to go another way. A smart move, he has no interest in them, they will die when the time comes. Whom he does have interest in is the young padawan with bright blue eyes, glaring at him with fierce determination. He knows that look; he too shared the same expression when he wished to please his master.

He was trained to look like an embodiment of terror, from the way he talked to his very movements. Everything Sidious created him to be was a walking nightmare, but the two Jedi before him didn’t look scared. Apprehensive, at most. Slowly Maul brought the hood of his robes down, revealing a crown of jagged horns. His markings were cleverly crafted to shape around each nub of bone, encircling them and giving them a darker presence. Only the Obi-Wan seemed to be impressed, eyes widening just a fraction. Maul watched as the apprentice took him the sight of him, blood kissed flesh outlined in black. He didn’t have long to bask in his own frightful appearance before they were all shedding their robs. The Sith was the first to draw his weapon, the second his double sabers ignited, the little one was striking him from behind.

Obi-Wan didn’t let up his onslaught, even after Maul kicked the elder down and away so that he could regain his footing. Maul didn’t count on the youngling charging at him without restraint. He deflected each blow, yellow eyes glowering into deep blue as they danced. Who was this creature? A Jedi, so Maul felt disgust, but he couldn’t ignore the sudden pacing of his heart. Even little one seemed to be conflicted, confusion expressed through his determination. Between them was a clear brawl, but the world around the pair seemed to blur and fade into darkness. It made it hard to concentrate, despite them remaining aware of their surroundings.

With a growl, he grabbed hold of some debris with the force and slammed it into the controls of a door so they could have passage. Before he could feel overwhelmed with this new feeling, the elder was back with full-blown attacks, leaving the Sith no room to question what had just happened.

They carry the endless swings of saber weapons into a new room, across a ledge, down a floor, and onward into a hallway. When a shield of red blocks his path to the older Jedi, he barely contains his roar at the sudden intrusion. It shattered his focus, left him heaving sharp breaths. Qui-Gon sits down, closing his eyes to gather himself. Down the hall, the younger Jedi lingers, now expressing nervousness. Maul tracks down his eyes, tilting his head in a mocking manner. Is the little one scared now that his master is so far away? The youngling scowled, straightening out his shoulders as if making himself appear more threatening. In return, the Sith bared his rotted teeth in a snarl.

They remained in their separated cells, never breaking eye contact even with Maul’s aggravated pacing. His steps became slower, coming to a halt when Obi-Wan was the only focus in his vision. Jinn was not forgotten, but he wasn’t there. All he saw was this beacon of light who was this young Jedi, who stared back at him with the same intensity.

A feeling washed over the dark one, one he recognized immediately. Unlike the force he knew, this was a soft, tentative touch. Searching as well as soothing, and he shut the little one out with such anger that he recoiled physically from the end of the hall. What does he think he’s doing? If he sought to calm or sooth the Dathomirian then he achieved the opposite. Maul felt furious, almost spitting when he hissed as the shield came down. The duel continued, fiercer than before with this newfound aggression for the student that the teacher will suffer. From the corner of his eye he could see the little one stuck behind the shield once again. Yearning for his blood, Maul pushed his limit of battle to strike down his elder. Smashing the metal of his saber against the mans nose bought him the time to sink his weapon into Jinn’s stomach. It was sloppy, unlike his usual work, but he didn’t look twice at the fallen man. A stupid mistake for a Sith.

Obi-Wan yelled, watching the fall of his master.

After a single, short breath, he launched himself back to the padawan. The Jedi glared at him, nostrils flared, once bright eyes now dark with intent to kill. His anger only faltered when the Sith suddenly spoke, surprising him with the deep, silent tone. It was quiet, but with an intensity that forced him to listen. “The last man who tried to get inside my head suffered the same fate of your beloved master.” Jinn stirred from his spot on the floor, rolling over just enough to stare up at them with deep regret in his eyes. He didn’t want to leave his apprentice to the fate of this Sith. “You will soon be following his footsteps.” No, Jinn wouldn’t let that happen. He closed his eyes, regulating his breathing and allowing himself to heal.

Obi-Wan said nothing, he only watched him in silence until the barrier between them vanished. At once, they were on each other, the Jedi grunting from being kicked in the head once again. The Sith love to play dirty, he’s learned that in the short time of meeting one. They sparred relentlessly for endless minutes, only breaking when Kenobi sliced the Sith’s saber in half before kicking him to the ground. Silence settled between them, no rush to take up arms while they once again searched each other. Were there answers to the questions Kenobi had? He couldn’t even think of any questions. All he knew is that while he stood before Maul, it was only them. Struggling to come back to his senses, he spoke through clenched teeth.

“I will not let you kill him.”

The blue beam of the Jedi’s saber almost sizzles the skin of his throat, but he kicked the youngling in the chest before he could be completely overpowered. “Fool,” he growled, “I already have.” Maul pushed himself up, now only using one saber against the Jedi.

“No.” Obi-Wan lunged at him with a new determination. He would end this battle, end whatever this pull between him and the Sith was, and then he would save his master. His efforts were quickly halted when he was pushed by the force and knocked over the edge of a gap in the ground. He latched onto a light, glancing down at the endless depths of the hole he fell in to. Maul peered over the opening, staring down at him with a wondering, passive expression. His leather boot kicked the younglings weapon down the hole, curious to see how deep it goes. Many thoughts popped up at once, all of them contemplating the murder of this little Jedi. The force could pry each finger off the light and the boy would plummet to his death. That was a tempting one, but he didn’t find it satisfying enough. Tilting his head, Maul regarded his prey with a new thought.

Obi-Wan watched his lightsaber plummet to its death, feeling his blood run cold when it never hit the bottom. He panicked slightly, his fear of heights surfacing. A gentle touch that wasn’t normal to a Sith brushed over the shields of his mind. Obi-Wan snapped his eyes upward, looking at the Sith who carried a contemplative look. He was testing the walls for any weaknesses. Any little crack in the foundation, any little crevice, will be Obi-Wan’s undoing. “Stop,” came his breathless plea. From the ledge, Maul could see a slight sheen of sweat forming over the Jedi’s fingers. He didn’t even realize he was also sporting a thin coat of perspiration, becoming heaver the deeper he tried to pry. “Stop me,” was Maul’s even reply.

“Why did you _touch_ me?” He asked, tone dangerously low.

Then blue eyes were staring at him. Maul almost scoffed, the Jedi had the audacity to look confused! He clenched his decaying teeth, sending down an unpleasant stare to the hanging Jedi. “You couldn’t _feel_...?” Kenobi asked, watching as the creature knelt down so they could see each other more clearly. From the corner of his eye, he could see his masters lightsaber, if he could get to it in time he could win this battle. “I felt you.” The Dathomirian snarled, “you think I will be so easy to read?” What? The Jedi wondered if they were speaking of the same thing. When they had been waiting in the hall earlier, the Sith had done something that shocked him. Had he not even noticed?

“No.” Obi-Wan breathed, “before that, you reached out to me.”

Chapped lips parted, ready to insult and deny, but all that escaped him was a choked groan of pain. A burning sensation erupted from his legs, as if he had just stepped into a roaring fire. Distantly he heard the commotion around him, yelling and moving around. “Master!” Footsteps sounded, another thud near him. Master? Maul rigidly turned his head to peer down at the kneeling man behind him, green saber in hand. He thought the man as good as dead. Seething at the very idea that Jinn was still alive, he tried to turn to face him and finally end this sad existence of a man, but his legs wouldn’t obey. He couldn’t move.

“It’s over, Sith.”

No, it wasn’t over. It couldn’t be over until he was soaked to the bone in blood. The Sith growled, pushing his body past this numb shock and forced himself to turn around. Then he was falling. Without grace, he landed with a loud thud against the metal floor, grunting and feeling his heart seize with panic. Glaring up at the younger Jedi, who was now pacing around his wounded master, he pushed himself up on his hands only to fall down again when his arms trembled too much to keep him steady. “It’s over! Why do you insist...?” The youngling ask, his face full of horror and, damn him, concern.

He couldn’t even form proper words, only half snarls and guttural sounds as he dragged himself along the ground with his trembling hands. Behind him, his legs severed from mid thigh remained comically upright. They had taken his legs, they had broken his weapon, but they could never quell his anger. Fear of losing, fear of upsetting his master, these fears kept him going. It pushed him over the edge of coherent thought, snapping his jaw at the hand that reached out to him, teeth clacking painfully together.

“Leave him, Obi-Wan.” Jinn urged, his tone breathless and rugged. “We must leave immediately.” But, the padawan couldn’t tear himself away from this creature who, against all odds, still crawled towards them with the intent to kill. “Master, earlier when we were separated, the Sith had reached out to me. It-It was just for a moment, but it has to mean something.” They were in a hurry, the young Jedi looked wide eyed from his master to the faltering creature on the ground. There were no words that could explain this feeling he held towards the deranged, flailing creature one the ground. He could never explain how he felt his chest tighten the longer he watched, how he felt more than pity as the fight so clearly faded away from the quivering heap of blood and limbs. All Obi-Wan knew is he couldn’t leave him here.

“He is nothing but danger.”

“Maybe it’s not up to us to decide that.” He mumbled before looking Jinn in the eyes, a desperate plea so clearly expressed through his own blue orbs. “He could be useful, someone sent him, he could…he could tell us who.”

“Do you really think-“

“Please, master. I cannot leave him, nor can I explain why.” It wasn’t a plea to take him, Obi-Wan was pleading for his mentor to understand why he wanted to rescue the Sith in the first place. The force worked in mysterious ways, he couldn’t leave without at least trying to figure this out. “Obi-Wan…” Before Jinn could give him a proper reply, the medic that he had called earlier during the commotion stormed in. They were silent, him and his apprentice as they stared each other down, searching for unspoken answers. “Bring us a carrier,” he held a hand over the wound in his stomach, tilting his head towards the now unconscious Maul. “We have a prisoner.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t explain the intense feeling of relief, like he could breathe again. He knelt down beside the tattooed man, hesitantly resting a hand between his shoulder blades. When he awoke, they would all have questions; they would drill him for any answers Sith related. Obi-Wan wished for these truths too, but he had questions of his own for the creature who had unknowingly reached out to him.

Silently, he asked his first of many questions to the emptiness surrounding them. “Why is your heart filled with so much rage…?”


	2. Force(d) meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Battle of Naboo, Qui-Gon Jinn lives and is able to take young Anakin Skywalker as his apprentice, though his training will be less hands-on than he is used to. Obi-Wan is unable to get himself to leave Maul's side at the medical bay, and when Maul finally awakens they find themselves in a situation where the Sith is completely out of his element.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried something new with the POV's and I think organizing my story like this has helped a great deal. '***' is either a break between the chapter or a change of POV. I don't know if I want any future Jinn/Anakin in here (other than a intimately platonic relationship) yet.

A week has passed since the Battle of Naboo. His master was alive and well. No one expected Qui-Gon Jinn to be alive once they heard that a Sith Lord stabbed him through the stomach with a lightsaber. They certainly didn’t expect to hear him tell the tale himself. Qui-Gon had lived, though he would argue the difference between living and surviving if asked. His organs were punctured and the wound left him mostly crippled. His master could walk, but he could never fight again. Despite what the medic droids told him, Obi-Wan Kenobi believed that his mentor would strong (stubborn) enough to fight again. Even if that fighting was as little as training his new apprentice, Anakin Skywalker. 

Annie, a young slave-boy from Tatoonie, had taken his own part in the war and proven himself worthy of Jedi training. Obi-Wan had been surprised to hear that, while they were battling their own war for the Jedi, Annie had taken down the station controlling the droids and thus winning the war for the rebellion. He was a sweet spoken, sandy blond child who seemed to radiate determination and power. There were still doubts in his mind about the boy, but voicing them now would only cause ill will. Anakin was already an apprentice, there is nothing he can do about it but take part and ensure that he is trained to be a noble Jedi. In the short span of their time together, the graduated apprentice had come to enjoy his little chats with the child.

The force works in mysterious ways. When something seems impossible, the force has a way of making the unobtainable suddenly within reach. Qui-Gon lived through a wound that would kill most and is now teaching his student who had almost been rejected. Obi-Wan had his own fair of twists in turns. He was now a Jedi Knight, given the title shortly after the war. He suspects that a part of it was so that Jinn could take on a new student, but he also knew the council would not have agreed if he didn’t earn it.

Then there was the Sith Lord, whose name he did not know.

He dragged a dangerous creature home. A nightmare, that would frighten younglings into wetting their tunics just by the mere sight of him, now resided within the temple. Bringing the legless Dathomirian here had caused turmoil within the council. The first day was nothing but endless chatter, then two days of silent meditation. Obi-Wan would meditate alongside them, but he felt too restless. It has been years since he’s felt such a disturbance within his own equilibrium. A calm and collected man rose from the small spitfire of rash acts and impatience he used to be, to the Jedi he is today. His clear head has not helped him with it came to Maul. There were no rational thoughts; he just knew he couldn’t leave the alien there. When asked why, which happened quite often, he could only answer that it was the will of the force. The pull he felt towards this creature wasn’t physical.

He dare not admit he has a connection with a Sith, but he cannot deny that there was a rift between them. Every moment they were within close range of each other, something in that rift connected. Now it felt as if there was something incomplete inside of him. When he looked into blood shot yellow eyes, he could see a change in the shadow surrounding the other man. A change Maul didn’t pick up on. This is where Obi-Wan couldn’t deny that something between them had taken place. How could someone not notice when they let their defenses down? Obi-Wan had many questions, but only one he truly needed to know.

Why did this shadow reach out to caress his light?

***

He stood in the medical bay, blue eyes lingering over the glass tube that contained a living nightmare. Wires and patches covered the Siths flesh, a mask was strapped over his face to let him breath while submerged within the healing liquid. The only clothing covering him up was a white undergarment, uncomfortable and made of thick plastic. Seeing him without robes was shocking at first. These markings were everywhere, and Obi-Wan can only imagine how much it must have hurt. He knew few of the Zabrak, all of them were human like and born with, what he remembers, one colored skin tone. Red, blue, green, all kinds that was the difference between a Zabrak and a human. These black markings that covered Maul’s flesh must have been added on.

In his younger days, Obi-Wan had considered markings. The process of tattoos is what drove him away. They used metal tools to puncture or peel back flesh before pouring the ink over the open wounds. It was an interesting process; however, he had passed over the opportunity. Imagine that skin-peeling process all over a person’s body, Obi-Wan thought while he studied the resting creatures face. Painted eyes, crooked stripes hugging his crown of horns, and even his lips were marked in a permanent scowl. Kenobi couldn’t imagine sitting through such torment, though Zabraks were known for the high tolerance to pain.

 His fingers caressed the glass without realizing what he was doing. To him, these moments were peaceful. They were the calm before a storm. His expression was soft and not meant for what a Jedi should hold for a Sith, instead he stared at Maul with a heavy disposition.

Whatever fate had in store for them, neither the Sith nor the Jedi would be prepared.

Maul floated listlessly inside the healing waters. His lean, muscular arms twitching every now and then with restlessness. Looking closer, he could see the Zarbrak eyes pacing back and forth beneath his dark eyelids. Every day he would come and watch the other sleep, nothing has changed from the little twitches and occasionally his severed thighs would kick out. The Jedi would take notice that Maul was now a cripple and think it a deserved serving of fate for his old mentor. Despite the creature being legless and now unable to flee, jump, or even walk, Obi-Wan still felt apprehensive in his presence.

His legs kicked once more, as if trying to get away or struggling to come to terms that he could no longer do so. Now Kenobi’s hand pressed firmly against the glass, his other palm coming to join it. He held the case as if reaching to give the being inside some form of undeserved solace. There was no malice within Obi-Wan to deny the Sith comfort. Jedi didn’t hang onto hate, and with his master alive, he couldn’t bring himself to loath this sorry creature. Kicking someone while they were down was never something a noble man did. Now Maul would be down for the remainder of his days and Obi-Wan know that fact in itself would be enough punishment for the independent Sith.

What were left of his legs were just pathetic patches of meat and severed bone. The muscle healed over, but left uneven patches of crimson skin that looked thin and veiny. It looked sensitive; like a single touch would pop the flesh and deep blue blood would spill out. It was a vulgar sight for anyone with a weak stomach. He doesn’t believe Maul will be too much of a threat without legs, there wasn’t much he could do with freshly healing nubs. A bitter part of Obi-Wan is pleased he will not be kicked in the jaw again.

Movement caught his eye, forcing his gaze away from his mentors handiwork to see that the Sith was now awake. He remained silent, watching as Maul flexed his fingers and stretched his arms, the liquid stunting his speed. It all happened so slowly that it almost looked peaceful. He was just a man waking up from a long battle and working through dull waves of fuzziness to regain his ground in reality.

Once the Zabrak looked down and noticed him, the storm finally hit.

*** 

This soothing touch was one Maul was not accustomed to feeling. The water was a sweet caress against his normally dirt smothered and matted flesh. It has been too long since he has felt a sense of cleanliness. He opened his eyes, closing them hurriedly to block out the blinding brightness of the room just beyond the glass wall that trapped him. It took moments of fluttering his eyelids to ease through the light, finally staring out into a room he recognized to be a medical bay. Long, red digits flexed, working to get the movement back into his body. Distantly he realized that this would not be his masters doing. No, Sidious would have left him to die. A tool is expendable. 

A tool that was broken is worthless.

He pressed his palms flat against the surface and pushed, testing the durability of the container. Only then did he notice the human being before him. Through the blur of healing liquid, he could make out a mop of auburn hair, pale peach skin, and two striking gunmetal blue eyes. A rush of static shot down his spine, causing what was left of his body to physically jerk. Silence filled the air between them; the only sound that remained was the steady beeping of machines. The subtle flicker of his hearts monitor began to pace quickly. His only give away to the utter shock he felt was the widening of his sunglow yellow orbs.

The Jedi seemed to notice his distress because he took a single step away before lifting his hands to show he was unarmed. Maul sneered; he knew the man was not a threat. It wasn’t his presence that alarmed him, it was the memory that came rushing back. “Now hold on-” Obi-Wan tried to reach to the Sith, but his words fell on deaf ears. The man confined between glass and wires was staring down now. It all happened as if everything were suddenly slow, so despairingly  _slow_.

The same thought repeated itself, repeatedly, in the back of Maul’s mind.  _A tool that was broken is worthless_. His lips parted, expressing unadulterated awe towards his two severed limbs. How did he overlook this when he was making sure all his parts still worked correctly? How did-? When-?

Fear…Fear was his ally. Rage, hate, and fear brought him strength no Jedi could ever hope to posses, but this…this is something entirely else. It was gut wrenching, a sickening twist in his stomach and chest that sent the monitor spiraling out of control. The control over his body went rigid and reluctant, barely twitching a mutilated thigh back and forth as if to double check what he was seeing is real. The Jedi beyond the healing tank watched in silent regard, shoulders tense and body ready to spring into action. Despite his defensive stance, he pressed his palms firmly against the glass, cooing gently into the force.

Maul felt two things at once: A calming hold enveloping him, and a sudden flare of rage engulfing his mind like fresh lava. Any comfort the  _fool_  attempted to offer him went viciously denied, a wave of darkness forcing Obi-Wan away from the glass and onto his knees. The room trembled, lights flickering and the monitor sparking with smoke before it went flat. Before his blood rimmed eyes, the glass started to crack, beginning around the edges before spreading towards the middle at a dangerous speed. Soon it shattered and he flooded gracelessly onto the tile floor, navy blood spitting out from where the wires were ripped out of his veins.

Clear water began to murk with cerulean, staining the Jedi’s robes where it was absorbed. Both men struggled and slipped along the soaked floor, trying to find their footing before the enemy. Only when Maul realized the best he could do was balance himself on his two hands did he let out a loud, guttural roar. “What’s done is done!” Obi-Wan reasoned blunlty, holding his hands out towards the Zabrak, palms facing down. His attention targeted to the Jedi’s pale hand, already tasting the copper tang of his master’s blood towards the familiar gesture. “We should calm down-”

***

“-OW!”

He actually bit him! Obi-Wan wrenched his hand back, having to tug it free from the Siths jagged and decaying teeth. Blood welled up around the new indentions in his hand. Teeth formed a mark around where his thumb met his wrist, crimson wetting the sleeve of his robes. It was a good bite, probably not enough to scar, but enough to have Obi-Wan scooting backwards to remain out of reach.

Every time he moved back, the Zabrak slid forth, dragging himself along the slick floor. Even without legs, he still looked like a dangerous predator. Before he knew it, he was meeting the immovable force of a wall, pressing his back against it and pulling his knees to his chest. He wasn’t truly afraid of this creature, but he certainly didn’t want to become offensive and risk another attack. With great patience, the Jedi allowed himself to be cornered. Maul stopped for a moment, just a second of faltering before he was breaking the code of personal space. Red toned hands pressed firmly to the floor on either side of the human’s waist, leaning in to bed eye level with those striking, peace-filled eyes. Obi-Wan didn’t flinch as his rescuee glowered at him with blood shot eyes. He returned the stare passively, suddenly aware of how hauntingly beautiful those eyes were.

From a distance, they looked blood shot and intense. Upon closer inspection, he could make out the whites of his eyes, hugged by red veins. His iris was like a sun, burning yellow. A sun surrounded by a ring of fire, forever burning within the Siths wrathful gaze. In the middle of the sun lays the most peaceful part, the eye of the storm, a pitch-black pupil that reflected the Jedi’s searching stare.

“I…have never seen eyes such as yours before.”

He had expected surprise, Obi-Wan surprised himself by saying that, but the look of complete and utter disbelief sent a chuckle escaping his faint smile. However unexpected, it was not enough to elicit words from the man holding him hostage in the medical rooms corner. The only changed he noticed was how the Sith’s eyes went from a unforgiving glare to a cynical searching. Minutes passed between them in silence, breathing steadily and taking in the details of the other. He felt the same rift between them back on the station. A flimsy, weak connection formed within the force unknowingly to both the Jedi and the Sith. Two sides of a coin, two complete opposites in mind, body, and soul, now felt like one being in the force.

It happened without any touches, without anything but holding a steady gaze with each other and no one else. Obi-Wan blinked and found that they were no longer in the medical bay. The room they were in was familiar, but not one he had ever been inside before. It had the same walls and furnishing as the station they first fought on. The look on Maul’s faced expressed that he knew the area, but that was not their biggest surprise.

They are standing.

Their contrast to each other expressed through their reactions. Maul hastily stepped back, tilting his head and baring his teeth around the room as if it were a threat. He briskly paced towards the small bed in the corner before moving over to a chest and kicking it. The large, metal crate gave a loud sound in protest. Obi-Wan wondered if that was his roundabout way of making sure this room was real or not. He knew it was not, not in a sense most people would understand. This is a place created for them, oddly enough, within Maul’s memory of what he considered a safe haven.

He knew what was happening. He has done this before with his master when they had become close enough to mold their physical friendship into a mental one as well. What he didn’t understand is that in order to create a link as strong as this there would need to be trust, and him and the Sith certainly didn’t trust each other. How could they make a solid world in the force for just the two of them when, just minutes ago, they were threatened by each other?

“Tell me what you did, little Jedi.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, putting his hands up in mock surrender to put an end to the Sith’s growling. “This is not my doing.” He simply replied, giving a pointed look around the room to prove that he was just as surprised.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m just not telling you everything.”

“Then  _speak_ , before I make you.”

“You think being that way will make me want to tell you?”

The Zabrak was near him now, taking such confident strides that Obi-Wan almost considered backing away. He didn’t, and they met in the middle of the room, Maul was an inch or so shorter but Kenobi still felt towered over. “The Sith have ways of making you talk; of making you  _scream_.” It was the way those words rolled off the others tongue that had them both going rigid. For a threat, he certainly sounded like he was promising something else. Kenobi had rejected those parts of himself since becoming a Jedi, but now he felt a familiar stir that had him clearing his throat. “I’m sure you do,” he looked away as Maul backed off with a sharp turn. Every move he made was full of a predatory grace and Obi-Wan couldn’t will himself to look away.

They stared at each other from opposite sides of the room when Obi-Wan realized that the other truly did not know that was happening to them. His nose was flaring, eyes only latching onto him for a second before they would flick about the room. It was so painfully clear that Maul confused and paranoid about the hoax that surrounded them. Of course he wouldn’t know how this place came to be. The Sith could never form this deep of a trust to create a place like this, let alone trust anyone in the first place. This must be his first time ever having a connection with anyone. He almost felt sorry for the creature, but reminded himself of his Sith status and quickly got over it.

Taking some pity on the Zabrak, Obi-Wan smiled thinly before speaking up. “This place is not dangerous.” To put an end to Maul's disbelieving glare, he added,

“We have connected through the force.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some research about the tattoo procedure. I'm not sure how Maul got his tattoos, but I thought it would show how badass his character is with him having to mark his entire body in the way where they used to chisel through skin before pouring ink in. If I'm wrong or if someone knows how he actually got them, feel free to correct me. More knowledge the merrier.
> 
> Small (not so) fun fact about how this started: I was originally going to have Maul severed from the waist like he was in the movie and have all their "endeavors" be done through mind link only. But, I changed my mind because I thought Maul looked endearing sitting up with nub thighs.


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